


Stress Relief

by 2kitsune



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Other, Pining, Racoon Masturbating, Rocket Jerks off in the Captain's chair, Rocket fantasizes about Peter, Tags May Be Updated, authority kink, solo masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-26 00:45:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7553674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2kitsune/pseuds/2kitsune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone's sleep schedules were fucked up, but Rocket's seemed worse than usual. After trying to waste time disassembling and reassembling his guns, Rocket then decides to relieve a little stress, and it just so happens that the Captain's chair is the closest comfortable spot - but is that the only reason? </p><p>OR: Rocket jerks off in Peter's chair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stress Relief

**Author's Note:**

> I am attracted to a Raccoon; this fic is the result. Also if I make any mistakes with like names of people / names of places / names of things please excuse me, I have a horrible memory for things like that. Also I’m sorry if Rocket seems too OOC? I have this thing where I just can’t quite seem to write that particular character tropes, so yeah. And, this fic is gonna be short compared to my others. Idk why, but it’s just turned out a lot shorter so I’m sorry ‘bout that. 
> 
> Also I never understood, with Rocket fanfic, why people don’t make him actually swear? So, he’s gonna swear in this fic. If someone wants to explain that to me, then please go ahead. And idk if it’s obvious but I have a thing for Rocket calling people babygirl … even if that person is a dude. I once again apologize if it seems too OOC.

After they saved the world the Guardians are a little at loss of what to do. They had been so busy before, trying to keep the infinity stone out of the wrong hands, as well as putting in as much training as they could before the final battle happened so they wouldn’t die.

 

So once it was all over, ceremonies and all, they all just sat around on the Milano for days afterwards. Eventually Drax and Gamora decided to put all their time into more training, both for the perk of being ready when danger struck and also so they could stay healthy. Peter decided that his ship needed more work, and spent most of his time tinkering around and humming to his mixtapes that played constantly over the loudspeakers.

 

Groot did nothing anyway, just sat in his pot in the sun and slowly grew, and while Rocket liked to sit with him, it turned out that months of sitting in various places around the ship grew boring. So, during the day, he worked on his weapons, assembling and disassembling his guns again and again.

 

But night time, that was a little different. Rocket needed stress relief, he was a man, well really he was a raccoon but he was still _male_ , it wasn’t till a while after the finally battle Rocket realized he actually had time at night to relieve it in exactly the way he needed too.

 

So, at some hour of the night, or was it morning? It was always hard to tell in the middle of space, Rocket put down the gun he had been working on. He had already taken his standard uniform shirt off, something that he would absolutely not so during the day just in case someone saw the wires sticking out of his back, but under the cover of near darkness it was another story.

 

Rocket stretched his arms up above his head once he was standing, stance centered on his left hip, and hears the click from sitting in the same place for too long. Briefly he thinks of retiring to his room, but when Rocket’s gaze slips over the Captain’s chair another thought crosses his mind.

 

‘I mean, everyone’s asleep,’ Rocket thinks, ‘So why the fuck not?’

 

There’s a curve to his lips that might suggest a smirk as Rocket strides over to the Captain’s chair, gait smooth and relaxed, hips rolling. He’s never actually sat in the Captain’s chair of the Milano, so as he settles against the warm out red leather Rocket notes how much more comfortable it was. Or, at least is seemed more comfortable than his own chair.

 

As he leans back into it, Rocket is suddenly aware of the faint smell of the Peter himself. It’s a musky smell, mixed with dirt and maybe a little sweat from the neglect of having a shower each day, but also the faint smell of that terra product Peter buys and claims is called ‘body- spray.’ And although Rocket would never admit it aloud, he does that a lot, he likes that significant smell Peter seems to have.

 

There’s already that pleasant thrumming in through his veins, a warmth in his stomach, as Rocket’s paw dips to smooth over the fur just above his waistband. It’ll be too much trouble to keep his pants fully on, and Rocket always preferred nudity over clothing anyway, and so once the raccoon had taken his time running his paws over his own body, he pushes them underneath his waistband and slowly begins peeling the blue material off of himself.

 

Rocket’s dick rests against his right thigh. During the experimentation's they had given him more of a human appendage, rather than how Rocket thought it was supposed to look like, longish and thick with a bit of a curve to it. He supposes, from a human’s perspective, it could be counted as rather big compared a human’s, but Rocket’s never met anyone who’s willing to have sex with something like him to ever ask.

 

Soon Rocket’s pants are around his ankles, giving him enough leeway to spread them apart, exposing himself to the center console. It’s slightly cold in the cockpit, but the knowledge of what was coming makes his body heat up underneath Rocket’s fur. He spits on his palm, not willing to get chafed like last time, and wraps his hand around himself, the other hand resting casually on the arm rest.

 

As Rocket begins to stroke himself he closes his eyes, leaning his head back fully against the head rest. He bites his lips and flicks his hips up when he flicks over the head, as that had always been sensitive to him. The other times he had done this, which wasn’t many since he had joined the ‘Guardians,’ Rocket had never really imagined anyway, never really had any fantasies, and tonight was much the same so far. At least, that’s what Rocket thought.

 

Being on a spaceship for as long as Rocket had really messed with the brain. Any normal person, or animal, or living tree, would start getting a little antsy for another person’s touch. Rocket wouldn’t admit it, but even he had started thinking about what it would like to be with Peter, staring for maybe a little too long at the other males’ lithe body hips, as well as his ass. 

 

So when his mind starts supplying hazy picture Rocket stops, hand on his dick stopping and eyes flying open. With his chest heaving he stared unseeingly out the front window, trying to desperately deny the fact that he had even started thinking about anyone. There’s no way anybody would ever like something like him enough to do shit like that, so why would Rocket even imagine it?

 

But it did feel good. Just thinking of someone else helping him out, jerking him hard and fast with a hand that Rocket wasn’t used too, made the raccoon more aroused than he probably should be. Really, what was the harm? As long he never acted on it, and Rocket doubted any of the people on this should would try anything.

 

With a little hesitation Rocket settled back again, his whiskers twitching from nervousness masked by his primal urge to get this done with. He closes his eyes as soon as the back of his head hits the chair, tilting it back and letting his jaw fall open slightly as Rocket pants. Now, as he imagined someone else being the one touching him, Rocket’s erection seemed that much more sensitive, and soon he’s biting back rough grunts and moans that would undoubtedly echo in this small area.

 

The blurry figure in Rocket’s head reaches out, slotting their hand alongside the raccoons as he jerks himself off. This hand is rough like his, with callouses that would give away many years’ work, but yet it’s still so much not like his own hand and Rocket can’t resist the urge to flick his hips up into the feeling. In the back of his head he knows this is wrong, and he should jerk off like a regular person (raccoon?) with good ‘ol porn, but this was already so much better Rocket knows he wouldn’t be able to stop now that he’s started.

 

Collecting the pre- cum collecting at the head of his dick, Rocket slides it down his length. In his head it’s the person he was imagining, the very same person who was slowly coming more and more into focus, like when you focus a camera or binoculars. Now Rocket noticed sandy hair, pink lips with a perfect cupids bow lips, not that Rocket would notice that on anyone normally, and slightly tanned skin.

 

There’s a tug at his stomach and heat spreads to the corners of his body, hotter than the sun in a nearby nebula which was thousands of times hotter than the sun in Terra’s atmosphere. There’s sweat mixing with his fur, making Rocket slide against the leather chair slightly, but he just plants his feet on the chair to firmly keep himself in the same place, the pants making around his ankles making it slightly difficult but Rocket doesn’t want to let this fantasy he’s in go.

 

It’d been a little too long since Rocket had done this. And while he usually had stamina for days, right now he wasn’t so sure. Not to mention that he could literally be walked in on at any second, all of the crew of the Milano had fucked up sleep schedules. So maybe it was for the best.

 

The image in Rocket’s head does eventually show to be Peter, peter in all his humie glory with a fucking smirk on his lips that Rocket wants to punch right off, or kiss off, Rocket doesn’t know, he’s still a little confused about being actually attracted to a humie to start with let alone it be Peter.

 

Suddenly the fantasy Peter smirks, light shining off of his plump looking lips, and he leans down. Rocket’s not proud of the small noise that leaves his lips when he realizes what’s happening, nor of the small, “Fuck.” That he growls out when Peter flicks his tongue out, sliding across the head of Rocket’s dick to taste his pre- cum, holding his tongue out as he looks up so that the raccoon could see that shine of his own fluids on Peter’s tongue before continuing. 

 

Rocket’s only really had a blow job a couple of times, the other person rather inebriated both times, so the feeling of Peter’s lips wrapping around his dick is instantly too much. Rocket’s nails dig into the chair, scratching but not breaking through the fabric, and the hand on his dicks speeds up, carrying him through this fantasy to an inevitable ending.

 

“Oh fuck,” Rocket mutters to himself again, followed by a sharp thrust of his hips. He doesn’t know why but Rocket hadn’t expected much from this blow job, seeing as it was a fantasy, but when Peter doesn’t waste any time and sinks fully down on Rocket’s cock, nose brushing the raccoons fur, the fantasy becomes all too real and Rocket has to stop stroking himself for a second to stop himself from cumming right then and there. “Oh shit, baby girl.”

 

He speeds up again, jerking himself off hard and fast. There’s a tightening in his stomach that keeps intensifying with each stroke, a tightening that makes Rocket’s hips flick up by themselves, sparks of pleasure running throughout his body. In his fantasy Peter’s bobbing his head, stroking whatever his mouth uncovers when he pulls back, while swallowing around Rocket’s erection, making it impossible for the raccoon to really think properly.

 

That’s why he’s not bothering to keep back his low grunts anymore. Before he was well aware that anyone could hear him, as they didn’t really have rooms of their own and instead had bunks dug into the wall with a curtain for privacy, but Rocket was so into it that he couldn’t give a flying fuck right about now.

 

“Oh, shit!” Rocket grunts, fucking up into the tight heat that he was imagining. Peter had hit a sensitive nerve underneath the head of Rocket’s dick, sending the raccoons body into spasms as pleasure exploded around his body. He was fucking close, embarrassingly so, and he doubted he would last much longer. “Oh fuck me.”

 

His words elicit a smirk from fantasy Peter, and Rocket can almost hear the words, ‘maybe later.’ Ringing through his ears. Either way Rocket keeps stroking himself off, almost desperate now. There’s stars behind his eyes and the pleasure keeps growing and growing, getting more and more intense to the point where Rocket’s paws are clenching and his claws have ripped through the red leather and then he’s cumming harder than he ever has in his life.

 

Rocket races over the edge of his orgasm, continuing to stroke himself through it. Rocket cums in great white stripes all up his naked chest, and some even hits his snout. Fantasy peter disappears, leaving Rocket to pant so hard it’s like he had just run a marathon, hips snapping up due to his oversensitive member and eventually it’s so sensitive that Rocket has to let go, the paw that he had been using going to the armrest on that side.

 

Sleepily Rocket slumps back into the chair, still occasionally twitching but his orgasm otherwise over. It’s then when he becomes aware of his surroundings again, ears twitching at the sounds of the Milano that he had otherwise being blocked as he chased his orgasm but after a quick listen Rocket deduces that everyone else was still in their bunks, meaning that he had gotten away with it.

 

At that he smirks. However, that quickly disappears when he looks down and sees the cum on his chest. That’s going to be a bitch to get out of his fur if he leaves it too long, and although Gamora is supposed to have the first shower today, Rocket’s going to have to risk possible death to get his own cum out of his fur before it hardens and everyone knows what he was doing.

 

Pulling up his pants is slow, paws fumbling a couple of times due to the utter exhaustion that had suddenly appeared, although that was a good thing because now Rocket knew he would actually be able to fall asleep once he falls into his bunk after his shower, but soon they’re back around his hips. Rocket winces when he has to push his member back into his pants, and then has to re-adjust himself once he’s jumped out of the captain’s chair because the fabric chafes horribly against his dick.

 

Oh yeah, the Captain’s chair. Rocket does a quick scan, mostly to make sure there was no signs that he had been sitting there, or what he had done there, and apart from the scratches on the arm rest there was nothing else. Rocket could just say that Peter’s chair was starting to wear out when the humie inevitably asked about it in the morning, he would probably believe that no problem.

 

With one final look, and a lingering touch to Peter’s chair, Rocket turns and heads out the back to the showers, gait smooth once again from time well spent. He had really needed that stress relief, who knows when he’d have enough free time to do that again.

-

"Hey, Rocket?" Peter's voice sounds from the cockpit, tinged with slight concern. 

"Mmm?" Rocket calls back, not bothering to look up from the bomb was making. Yes, he was going to put in somewhere safe this time and not just in a box. Gamora and Drax are off in the training area, and Groot, who was sitting on the table, wouldn't understand the conversation anyway, leaving just Peter and Rocket in the main area of the ship. It is a little weird being alone up here with Peter, but Rocket would never spill the beans about his obvious attraction, even if he was denying to himself, anyway. 

"Did you scratch my chair?" Peter asks. "Or did I do that by accident? Either way I don't know where they came from." 

Rocket's small heart stills for a second, causing Rocket to choke for a split second, and when he speaks up his voice is slightly strained. Shit, he knew the question was going to come but Rocket hadn't expected for Peter to notice right away. He obviously had underestimated how much Peter loved, and took care of, the Milano if he noticed a couple of scratches. 

"Why're you asking me, dumbass? I dunno' where they came from," Rocket says, trying to keep his voice steady. In his hands he keeps playing with different objects that were meant to go into the bomb, but wasn't actually doing anything with them. "Maybe ask th' other guys?" He adds, and then shrugs as though he doesn't give a shit about the scratches on Peter's chair even though he was actually having a small heart attack. 

Peter's silent for an oddly long amount of time, because usually they couldn't get him to shut up, and Rocket's almost calm enough again to continue on with what he was doing when the humie speaks up again, closer to Rocket this time rather than wherever he was standing before. 

"Sure," He says. "Maybe they'll know how raccoon looking scratches got onto my chair. And if they don't, I can always check the security tape."

Rocket freezes, but plays it off. "Do whatever you want, it's your ship." He says, but in his head Rocket's already planning on how he can get to the security tapes and wipe them clean before Peter even gets a chance to see them. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading! Please leave a KUDOS and a COMMENT if you wish! I really appreciate it! Thank you! 
> 
> (also I'm sorry if there's any mistakes. It's late where I am, and I'll do a more thorough search later for any mistakes I might have made) 
> 
> Tumblr: 
> 
> Main: jhopesforehead  
> Writing: 2kitsune


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